One Thousand Dollars
by PollyVictorian
Summary: Murdoch Lancer wanted no favours from either of his sons. But things can change... A challenge story inspired by two original advertisements.


$1000 reward

The undersigned will give ($1000) one thousand dollars reward for the arrest and  
conviction of the person or persons who attempted the assassination of James  
Skinner at his residence at Green Valley, El Dorado county, Cal., on the night  
of December 11, 1870.

James Skinner  
Green Valley, December 17

TO PRINTERS  
For Sale - the materials and good-will of a Country paper, one year old.  
Published at the county seat of an Agricultural and Stock raising county in the  
state, large in territory and increasing in population. Only one other paper  
published there. Just the thing for a young, unmarried man, of correct habits,  
able to print and edit a country newspaper and desirous of settling in a  
neighborhood whose resources, as yet undeveloped, are confessedly unsurpassed. A small capital required. None but Republicans will be treated with. Apply to L.  
P. Fisher, Merchants Exchange, San Francisco

* * *

"A thousand dollars – that's quite a reward you're backing Mr Skinner for, Murdoch," Scott remarked as he read the advertisement.

"It's worth it, Scott," replied Murdoch Lancer. "Lawlessness is pulling this state down, slowing progress in every way. Lancer has felt it," he paused and a shadow passed over his face. Scott knew he was thinking of Paul O'Brien. "It's only by luck that James wasn't killed," Murdoch went on. "He doesn't know who the gunman was or what his motive might have been – maybe straight robbery. If that's the case then as long as the fellow is at large he might try it again, in any house, anywhere. And if one would-be killer gets away with it, others will think they can too. We need more lawmen… "

"As you shout at the Lieutenant Governor every time you see him," Scott interposed with a grin.

"And I'll keep on shouting until we get them," his father declared. "Meanwhile, I'll do anything I can to keep the bad element from running rife. If the reward is claimed, James will pay me back when he can, I know. Even if he can't, it would be worth the money to have a man like that behind bars – and show the murderers and high riders that the people of California won't tolerate their like any more."

* * *

Murdoch watched the two horsemen approach the Lancer hacienda. He broke into a smile as he recognized one as James Skinner.

"James! Good to see you," he greeted his friend as the two men reined in their horses and dismounted.

"Hello, Murdoch," Skinner shook hands with the rancher. He turned to his companion. "Mr Tolliver, this is Murdoch Lancer. Murdoch, this is Mr Farran Tolliver."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Tolliver," Murdoch acknowledged. The man nodded a greeting in return.

"Jelly," Murdoch called, "look after the horses. Come inside, gentlemen," he invited.

"Don't unsaddle my horse," Tolliver said to the old wrangler who was taking the horses' reins. "I'll be leaving quite soon." He followed Murdoch and Skinner into the house.

The men went into the Great Room where Scott was seated at the desk entering details of some newly acquired Shorthorns into the stock book, Johnny supposedly helping him.

"James, I want you to meet my sons, Scott and Johnny," Murdoch thought he kept the excessive pride out of his voice; after all, he was getting used to saying 'my sons' by now, wasn't he? "Scott, Johnny, this is my old friend, James Skinner, and Mr Farran Tolliver."

"How do you do?" Scott and Johnny greeted the visitors.

"Murdoch, I have a little business to discuss," James Skinner began.

"Speak away, James," Murdoch urged him. "Johnny and Scott are my partners as well as my sons. If there's any business to be done, they'll be a part of it."

"I have some good news. Thanks to Mr Tolliver, here, the man who tried to kill me last December has been traced and arrested."

"That's splendid, James. Who was he?" Murdoch asked.

"A man named Cole Grendon. As far as I can gather, someone stole a horse from him and sold it to a horse trader, who sold it to me. Grendon came after the horse and wanted to kill me for having possession of it. He thought he had, apparently – I was knocked out by the bullet, as you know – and left with the horse. Mr Tolliver saw him come out of the house and ride off, and came forward when he saw my advertisement."

"Can't blame the man for wanting his horse back, but his retrieval method was a little extreme," remarked Scott.

"It wasn't just me he wanted dead," Skinner told him. "The horse trader had been murdered three days before. With the horse as a connection, Grendon can be charged with the murder as well. Provided," he added, "that Mr Tolliver gives evidence at the trial."

"But you'll be doing that, won't you, Mr Tolliver?" Murdoch queried.

"Well, that depends, Mr Lancer," Tolliver replied. "I want to and I'm willing to, but there is a certain risk in doing so. I doubt that any of you have heard of Cole Grendon."

"I have," Johnny put in.

"Have you?" Tolliver looked at him shrewdly. "Then perhaps you know that this won't be his first trial for murder. He was charged with killing a stagecoach driver during a robbery attempt in Nevada a couple of years ago. He was acquitted on an absurd technicality." Tolliver paused. "Within four months everyone involved in his arrest and everyone who testified against him was dead. That's his way. Total revenge, you might call it. He was doing the same here. Everyone involved in stealing that horse, he wanted dead, even those who had no way of knowing it was stolen."

"How do you come to know so much about him, Mr Tolliver?" asked Scott.

"I'm a reporter," Tolliver explained. "I was covering that trial in Nevada. I watched Grendon standing in the dock for two days so my identification of him is certain." His expression darkened. "One of the witnesses was a fellow reporter, a man I worked with on my first newspaper. He was the first one found dead after Grendon was released. So you see, Mr Lancer," he went on, "much as I'd like to see Grendon behind bars, or better still at the end of a rope, I've got to take into account that if he wriggles out of it again, I'd be unlikely to live another week. I want something to make that risk worthwhile."

"Isn't helping the course of justice enough?" asked Murdoch.

"Justice isn't much comfort if you're dead, Mr Lancer," Tolliver retorted wryly. "But when I saw Mr Skinner's advertisement offering a reward, I decided that could make the chance worth taking."

"I wouldn't have said money was worth risking your life for, myself," Scott remarked.

"That depends on what the money is going to buy, Mr Lancer," Tolliver declared.

"That's why we're here, Murdoch," James Skinner jumped in. "Mr Tolliver needs the reward money immediately."

"He'll have it," Murdoch acceded, "It's been promised. Johnny can go to the bank in Green River now, if you need it right away. You can have it by this evening."

Tolliver shook his head. "No, I need it now, Mr Lancer. Within an hour, at most."

Murdoch frowned. "I don't have that much cash here in the house. I could give you a hundred dollars and a bank draft for the rest. Would that do?" Tolliver shook his head again.

"No, it has to be the full amount in cash, now, or it's no good to me. At least, not enough to risk my neck."

"What is it this money's going to buy, Mr Tolliver? And why the rush?" Scott demanded.

Tolliver smiled. "It's buying a dream, Mr Lancer. In my case, a newspaper. I have the chance of a lifetime to buy a newspaper in a booming country town but I have a deadline to meet and I have to pay cash. Mr Fisher, the gentleman selling it, seems to have some doubts about me being a good Republican. He's agreed to the sale but only if I meet his deadline with the cash in hand."

"What if Murdoch can't get you the money?" Johnny asked him.

"Then I won't testify," Tolliver stated.

"And that means Grendon will go free," declared Skinner. "Mr Tolliver's evidence is crucial – without it there's no case against Grendon."

"And if he goes free, he'll be after you again," Johnny frowned, "and maybe you as well, Murdoch, if he finds out you put up the reward money. Revenge on everyone, like Mr Tolliver said."

"I'm afraid that's right, Mr Lancer," Tolliver agreed.

"But wouldn't 'everyone' include you too, Mr Tolliver?" Scott pointed out. "Your evidence has got him arrested. It seems to me you're in as much danger as anyone else if you don't testify."

"Grendon will be in jail for another two weeks before his trial comes up. That will give me time to get away," Tolliver answered. "I'm not a ranch owner – I don't have anything that means I have to stay in California, or even America. By the time Grendon is free to do any mischief, I'll be on a ship bound for Melbourne."

Murdoch rose. "I'll have to see what I can do. James, you and Mr Tolliver come into the sitting room while the boys and I talk it over. I'll have some coffee sent in." He led the visitors out of the room and Johnny and Scott looked at one another.

"I'm broke," Johnny said. "Jess Harper cleaned me out at poker last night. I swear he deals from the bottom of the deck! What about you, you got any money?" His brother shook his head.

"No, you cleaned me out the night before, remember?"

"Think the hands might be able to help? Jelly or Cip or Isidro would lend Murdoch what they had, I know."

"I think every hand on the place would, Johnny, but a thousand dollars? They wouldn't have that much in their pockets." He gave a wry grin. "You know Murdoch always encourages the men to put their money in the bank instead of keeping it lying around."

"We've got to do something, Scott! I've heard about this Grendon, met him once in Laredo. He's the worst sort of gunfighter – feels good about killing. And Tolliver had it right about revenge. If Grendon thinks Murdoch had anything to do with getting him arrested, he'll be after Murdoch first chance he gets."

"Perhaps we can persuade Tolliver to testify after all," pondered Scott. "If we promise to help him get another newspaper somewhere else, he might agree."

"I think we should keep a hold of him until the trial. Drag him to it by force, if need be."

"That wouldn't do any good, Johnny," his brother demurred. "Even if you made him appear at the trial you couldn't force him to testify. Can't hold a gun to man's head in court."

"I'm going to keep an eye on him, anyway," Johnny declared. "Make sure he doesn't sneak off to Australia while our backs are turned." He left the room and Scott leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes while his thoughts whirled. A thousand dollars cash in less than an hour? There was just no way. A thousand dollars…

His eyes snapped open. Jumping to his feet, he bolted through the doorway and up the stairs to his room. Now, where had he put the thing? He paused, trying to remember. It was so long ago. It would have been when he was packing away his city clothes… he dived over to a trunk standing in the far corner. Yanking it open, he began rifling through outfits that had been the height of Boston fashion a year ago. He pulled out a coat – had he ever really worn that? – and felt through the pockets. Yes, there it was. He pulled the item out and ran back downstairs to find Murdoch.

His father was sitting at his desk in front of the picture window in the Great Room, leaning his head on one hand, his face a picture of worry. He looked up as Scott strode over to the desk.

"Murdoch," Scott began, "would you accept a favor from me?"

"Of course I would, Scott," his father replied.

"Would you accept one retrospectively?" continued Scott.

"Retrospectively?" Murdoch asked, puzzled. "I don't know how, but yes, I would. It would be strange if I couldn't accept a favor of my own son. What is this retrospective favor you've done me?"

"Gave you an hour of my time." Scott smiled as he dropped an envelope onto the desk. It was unopened but Murdoch knew what it contained. He'd put the thousand dollars in it himself.

"Shall I send Tolliver in, Father?" asked Scott.

"Yes, son," said Murdoch Lancer, "do that."

* * *

"Cole Grendon has been found guilty of murder," Murdoch said, looking up from the paper Jelly had just brought from town.

"I can only call that good news," responded Scott.

"Did Tolliver testify?" Johnny asked.

"He did indeed, Johnny." His father started reading aloud from the newspaper article:

"Mr Farran Tolliver, proprietor and editor of the Crescent City Gazette, in an admirable demonstration of fine public spirit and courageous championship of justice, delivered a solemn testimony, the precision and sincerity of which went far towards the ultimate conviction of the felon on one count of attempted murder and one of murder in the first degree."

"He must have been impressive," Johnny declared.

"Or possibly he wrote the article himself. He is a journalist, remember?" offered Scott.

"Say, where did you get that money for Tolliver, Murdoch?" Johnny asked. Murdoch looked over at his elder son.

"Scott reminded me that I'd set it aside for something, but it hadn't been needed after all." He paused, then added,

"It was to pay for something that didn't have to be bought."


End file.
